


Straw, Meet Camel

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, references to Will/Jemma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They decide to take what they can get, until they just can’t take it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straw, Meet Camel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EclecticMuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/gifts).



> (probably actually somewhere between mature and explicit)

A maybe-accidental brush of his wrist against hers.

Inching closer and closer to him as they looked at simulation results.

Catching each other’s eye across the table. A lick of her lips, a bob of his throat as he swallowed. 

It shouldn’t have surprised Jemma that they ended up where they were now, in the dark supply closet, trying not to trip on the bottles of cleaner they’d knocked to the ground, the room filled with labored and uneven breaths drawn sharply through their noses, his hands pulling her close and the warmth from his palms bleeding through her shirt, her own hands cupped around his ears with her fingers digging into his scalp, small moans deep in their throats as they kissed and kissed and kissed. 

It did surprise her just how damn good he was at it. She knew him long enough to know how long it’d been, after all. 

Of course, maybe it felt so good because she was just that much in lo –

Jemma deepened the kiss, pulling herself closer, close enough to feel the hard ridge trapped beneath his fly as it pressed into her belly. She groaned and shivered, and Fitz pulled back far enough to make her whine in protest.

“Are you cold?” he whispered, breathless and dazed.

“No,” Jemma replied, unable to stop her smile, and she pulled him back to her lips.

As soon as he was kissing her again, she dropped one hand to his waistband and hooked her fingers over the top edge. His shirt prevented her from feeling skin, but she was able to get a good enough grip to tug him close again. If anything, he had grown even harder. So Jemma let her hand slip farther down, played with the button of his trousers for a moment before flicking it open, then pinched the tab of his zipper between her fingers. She pulled it down tooth by tooth, and got further than she thought she would – nearly halfway – before he broke the kiss again and rested his forehead on her shoulder. It was his turn to tremble.

“Jemma,” he moaned, his voice strained and his breath shaky.

“Are you cold?” she asked, a wicked smile hinting at the corner of her lips. 

“We can’t – we shouldn’t – ”

“Why not?” she asked, continuing before he could answer. “Don’t we deserve this? Don’t we both want it?”

“You know why not,” he whispered, lifting his head but not, from what she could make out, his eyes, avoiding her even in the darkness. In a way, she was thankful. She didn’t know if she wanted him to discern the expression in hers either. 

Jemma pressed her lips together and swallowed. She moved her other hand around to the back of his neck, resting her fingers on the stiff, straight line of his cervical vertebrae, and she held her breath as she waited.

For one long, heartbreaking moment, she thought Fitz would just leave, abandon her there cold and lonely and rejected. And then he spoke again, his voice broken in resignation.

“If we keep going, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“Who says I’d want you to?”

He shook his head, bringing both hands to her waist and pulling her closer, almost involuntarily. “I don’t mean – of course, I’d stop if you – I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get over – go back – I – ”

“ _Fitz_ ,” Jemma breathed out. She raised herself to her toes, tilted her head to align their lips despite the angle caused by him staring at his feet again, and then murmured, “Please don’t stop.”

He whimpered rather pitifully and tugged her close so unexpectedly quickly, she stumbled and fell against his chest. But she could work with that, and she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck as she deepened the kiss. He hesitated still, for just one moment longer, and then he pushed her backwards, crowding her up against the wall again. He rocked his hips, rutting into her, and she could feel how quickly his arousal was returning, how much more demanding it was becoming.

This time, it was his hands that traveled to her zipper, his hands that pulled it open and pushed her jeans and knickers over her hips and down, down, down. His hands that hooked around her rear, squeezed at the muscle there and then lifted, urging her to her toes again even as he bent his knees. They lined up perfectly and Jemma wanted to sob at the sensation. She clung to him, both in relief and despair at the thought that she’d almost lost this, that she still didn’t _really_ have it, that their first time was this – a quick shag in a closet, that they were getting a first time at all, that it might be the only time, that he’d probably never realize how much she lo – wanted him, that after everything he still wanted her. 

“We can’t,” he suddenly gasped out.

Jemma nearly screamed.

“I don’t have a – ”

The relief was overwhelming. Jemma grinned, turning her head slightly so she could capture his earlobe between her teeth in a brief nibble. 

“Just like this then,” she suggested in an urgent, desperate tone. “Rubbing like this. Just don’t stop.”

He nodded with a rapid bobble of his head, forcing Jemma to suppress a giggle at his enthusiasm. But then he was kissing her again, pressing her up against the wall so hard she grunted. He lifted a hand to brace it just by her head, leaning into it as he ground against her. It took Jemma a moment to catch up, but then she was hooking her leg around him, canting her pelvis up to meet him thrust for thrust. Tiny moans and whimpers escaped her lips to crash against his own, her pulse pounded in her ears, and somewhere in the back of her consciousness, she heard more supplies falling to the ground. 

“Don’t stop,” she repeated, the pitch of her voice rising the closer she got to her climax. “Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop.”

He moaned her name, almost reverently, as he came, and he kissed her again, hard and deep, as she followed him over the edge. Jemma lost all strength in her legs, but he caught her and supported her, continuing to hold her close as little aftershocks raced through her body. She shivered one last time, then turned her head to lean her cheek against his chest and nuzzle his neck with her nose.

“Fitz,” she sighed. 

She wanted to ask him what this meant, if he still wanted a future with her, if this was just the beginning of something so much more, or if this was a goodbye, something desperate and sad and angry, some way of evening the score or even simply just seeing what it was like, just once. She wanted to ask if he forgave her, would wait until she sorted everything out in her brain and heart and freed herself fully to lo – 

But it wasn’t fair. She had asked enough of him. Too much, really.

**

He told himself it wasn’t going to happen again.

He told himself he wouldn’t settle for this, some twisted intimacy where they were everything to each other and yet nothing, where they could have stolen moments of passion but not the future – a home, a family, a life full of love – they had once both dreamed of. 

He told himself it was too dangerous to risk invoking the bloody curse they were clearly living under, to tempt fate by trying for even just this much.

But he couldn’t resist her and he couldn’t refuse her. He had spent some unknown length of time watching her in the lab – failing to classify her secret smiles into the taxonomy he had created so long ago and realizing it was because they had a new meaning that had never been there before; recording in his memory, for the sake of scientific posterity, the way she held her hand to the back of her neck before dragging it down towards her chest to play with the necklace that was no longer there; measuring the intensity and the exact shade of her blushes whenever their eyes happened to meet – before finally giving in. And when he had raised a questioning eyebrow and tilted his head toward the bunks, she had sucked her lower lip into her mouth and nodded once, eagerly giving in herself. 

And now here they were, lying in his bed and luxuriating in the afterglow. It had been different this time, slower and horizontal and with all the lights on and all their clothes off, but similar in many ways too. He avoided meeting her eyes, for one thing, and made sure they didn’t have any protection and so were still limited in what they could actually do with and to each other. He knew it was an absurdly arbitrary line at that point, but he also didn’t know if he could survive crossing it. 

If this was all he got before they rescued Will and he got relegated back to best friend, then he needed to have some kind of control. He needed to be able to take a hard stance on how far he’d let this go. Maybe he’d regret it then, but he suspected he’d regret even more letting himself experience all that they could be together and then being forced to give it up. 

So for now, he’d take whatever _else_ he could get, whatever she was willing to let him have. It was far better than arguing about it, talking in circles and making each other miserable. 

Jemma was on her stomach, arms buried under the pillow she rested her head on. There was a smile – one of the new ones – dancing across her lips, and her eyes were closed. With a groan, Fitz propped himself up and leaned over her, reaching one hand out to trace it along her naked back. Her skin was soft and smooth, covered with freckles yet as pasty-pale as she always accused him of being, perhaps even more so considering her recent history on the sunless planet and his of globe-trotting. The thin, faded scar from the surgery she had so many years ago was whiter still, and a symbol of just how incredibly resilient she was. 

He leaned closer and pressed his lips to it with something that wasn’t quite a kiss. He drew one finger along its length, following it with his mouth and his tongue all the way to the bottom. He remembered all the times he noticed Jemma staring at a strong, straight back, but he had to admit, from his perspective, her still slightly crooked one was far sexier. 

And then, once he reached the bottom of the puckered line, he kept on going, dipping his tongue into the small of her back and mouthing over the swell of her bum, ending with a light bite and a playful growl. He just barely heard her giggle over the roaring of his pulse as he felt the passion in the room start to heat up again. He shifted his weight and sat up, gave a little push-pull to the crest of her hip until she turned over, and then he lowered down, seeking her out with his mouth again.

It was the first real, direct taste he had of her, and he suspected the memory of it would haunt him years after he’d have to let her go for good.

**

Jemma couldn’t stop the snicker, which made her humming even worse. She slowly opened the door and peeked her head out, looking first one way and the other. The coast was clear.

“Is that _Secret Agent Man_?” Fitz asked from behind her, the mockery in his tone just subtle enough to ignore. 

She turned to face him, grinning widely as she leaned back against the doorframe. It was disappointing to watch him button his shirt up for a change, but even that couldn’t bring down her good mood.

Orgasms did that to a person.

Lots and lots of orgasms. Weeks worth of orgasms. And they hadn’t even technically _gone all the way_ yet. 

They should have done this years ago. Great exercise, great stress relief, and as had become more than apparent, it wasn’t like they had ever been good at talking _anyway_ , so why not avoid any and all complicating conversations by having as much sex as humanly, probably even inhumanly, possible. 

And OK, maybe _that_ was enough to kill her buzz a bit, so it was definitely time to go back to flirting. “We are being very stealthy. And we, in fact, _are_ secret agents, so.”

Fitz smiled at her, rolling his eyes slightly before dropping his gaze. He stepped closer, leaning in and placing one hand on her head and the other on her torso, oh-so-reminiscent of the first time he kissed her, softer and more relaxed but no less passionate. He breathed in sharply through his nose, then broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. Jemma half-opened her eyes, hoping to catch him looking back at her, but he – as usual – was staring at the floor, or maybe their bodies, or maybe nothing at all. All she knew was he wasn’t looking at her. She stifled a sigh, tried to remind herself that she couldn’t – she wouldn’t – push him for more after he had already given her so much. Instead, she tilted her head up and kissed him once, briefly, forcing a smile.

“Better get going before I drag you back to bed.”

“If I weren’t supposed to meet with Coulson,” he observed wistfully, “I’d let you.”

Jemma smiled, ran a hand down his arm, then gave him a little push.

“On the other hand, the meeting’s not for 20 minutes.”

Jemma laughed, pushing him harder. “Go.”

She closed the door, sighing softly as she leaned against it. She scratched her fingernail down the surface and pretended she didn’t notice the smile fading from her face. 

It bloomed full again immediately at the quick and quiet knock. Maybe they couldn’t do their best work in 10 or 15 minutes, but they could do some pretty damn good work. She reached for the knob and pulled the door open without hesitation.

“Back so soo – hi.”

Daisy stared back at her, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in inquisitive challenge, and clearly fighting a smile.

“Expecting someone else?” 

“No! What’s up?” Jemma asked, overly innocent and much too loud and high-pitched.

As soon as she saw all the double entendres flit through Daisy’s mind, she knew she should have tried better than going that route. Thankfully, all Daisy did was snort before forcing the serious expression back to her face, tapping her foot expectantly for good measure.

Jemma sighed, darted forward to hook her hand around Daisy’s arm, and pulled her into the bedroom. She took a moment to close the door and steel herself before turning to face Daisy again. Daisy gave a very pointed look at the rumpled sheets and sat on the chair instead. The blush burned across Jemma’s face and she hurried over, futilely trying to hide the evidence by attempting to make the bed. 

Eventually she gave up, sighed, and sat down on the foot of the mattress. Hooking her hands around the back of her neck, she waited, growing increasingly uncomfortable the longer Daisy stayed silent. Finally, she risked a glance.

Daisy was rocking back and forth in the chair, silently laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face. 

Jemma huffed and stood up, turning away. 

“No, no, no,” Daisy protested, hopping to her feet and grabbing Jemma’s arm, pulling her back into a hug. “I’m just so happy for you guys, I could just puke.”

Perhaps not so unexpectedly, Jemma burst into tears.

“Oh!” Daisy responded, her attitude immediately shifting as she tightened her embrace. “What – um…”

“Everything’s awful,” Jemma declared.

“Is he that bad at it? Should I give him an anatomy lesson about clitorises?”

And then she was laughing. This whole situation had officially driven her around the bend.

“Clitori?” Daisy suggested.

Jemma shook her head in exasperation and walked back over to the bed. She sat down even as she tossed her hands up in defeat. 

“I don’t know what’s happening. Or what’s going to happen. Or how he feels. I definitely don’t know how _I_ feel.”

“I can answer that,” Daisy interrupted, rushing over to join her on the bed. She grabbed Jemma’s hands and waited for her to look up. “You two are butt-crazy in love with each other, always have been. In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve known he’s the only guy in the universe you’d ever be happy with.”

Jemma’s lips wobbled as she tried to smile. She sniffed. “That’s the problem. There’s another guy in another universe. And if – when – if we can rescue him, then…I can’t hurt Fitz again. I can’t. But I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Daisy squeezed her hands supportively. After a long moment, she said, “Tell me about him, Will. Tell me how you feel about him, what it was like.”

Jemma looked off to the side. “It was – people always say a new relationship is like being the only two people on earth, but that’s not as romantic as you’d think. I hated him as much as I needed him, at first. He was so pessimistic. We were always getting in each other’s way, but he also…listened to me. Let me talk about anything and everything. And later, he believed in me and made me believe that, if I lived the rest of my life there, it wouldn’t be so bad. Things were easy, they could even be fun a lot of the time. It was built on survival and companionship, but I won’t diminish it by saying it was solely because of our circumstances.”

She looked back at Daisy, who pursed her lips and nodded. 

“But I don’t know,” Jemma added softly. “I don’t know if it will work here _without_ those circumstances. I don’t know if I want it to. Because here…there’s Fitz.”

“Yeah,” Daisy agreed. 

Jemma groaned, falling back onto the bed. “And everything used to be easy with him too. We used to talk about everything. We used to get in each other’s way and argue and work so well together, and we probably wouldn’t have even noticed if we were the only people on the planet because no one else mattered. And now things are so – strange. Things haven’t been easy with him for a long, long time.”

“You know what they say,” Daisy pointed out. “The best things in life are worth fighting for. Maybe it’s not supposed to be easy all the time.”

Jemma sighed. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry,” Daisy replied, falling back herself to lie next to Jemma. 

They were both silent for a long time, and then Daisy heaved a breath.

“You could just ask him how he feels.”

“No,” Jemma refused immediately. “No, I can’t. I don’t want to risk talking about any of this. I don’t want to get his hopes up.”

Daisy snorted. “Considering all the other things of his you’re getting up, I’m pretty sure we can safely assume his hopes are too. And don’t think I’m not inwardly cringing at whatever I might be lying on right now.”

Jemma’s blush returned with a vengeance, and it grew even deeper when Daisy added, “Not that this necessarily should be a deciding factor, but…uh, who’s the sex better with?”

“We’re not actually – we haven’t…done that.”

Daisy raised a curious eyebrow.

“Just everything _but_ ,” Jemma clarified. “He’s…holding back.”

Daisy hummed noncommittally. 

“He doesn’t look at me during – he won’t look in my eyes,” Jemma added quietly. 

Daisy winced, then offered a supportive yet teasing smile as she sought to change the subject. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Jemma huffed, shaking her head. “I guess, _technically_ the sex was better with Will then.”

“And instead of arguing semantics with you, I’m just going to rephrase my question and ask the same thing about the ‘everything _but_.’”

Jemma bit her lip and looked over at Daisy. She could feel the twinkle in her eye. Daisy shuddered in dramatic disgust. She rolled off the bed and stood, leaning over to grab a pillow which she immediately threw at Jemma. Then she walked to the door and opened it, turning around to look back at Jemma.

“Just grow a backbone and tell him you love him already,” she ordered. 

The door slammed shut behind her, and Jemma’s chuckles soon died down. She stared at the ceiling and hugged the pillow.

“If only it were that easy,” she observed.

**

Fitz sat up abruptly. It almost didn’t seem real. But he had had far too many eureka moments in his life not to recognize one now.

“Jemma,” he said, too preoccupied to even look at her. “Come see this.”

He continued to stare at the screen, mouthing silently as he worked through a few additional calculations. It took a moment for him to realize she was standing next to him. He turned to look at her, but she was fixated on the images and numbers flashing at them. Moments later, she shook her head and turned away.

“It won’t work.”

“It _will_ work,” Fitz disagreed.

“No, we need to do more – ”

“Jemma, I’m telling you it will work.”

She turned away from him, breathing in deeply. “It’s too dangerous to attempt until we’re – maybe we should just stop trying,” she blurted.

Fitz spun in his chair, gaping at her in confusion. “ _What?_ ”

She faced him again, throwing up her hands. “It’s crazy, Fitz! Who would risk going back there for one person? A person who I’m sure is dead – or, or Hydra – or – ” she broke off, breathing heavily, unfocused eyes darting around the room.

“I don’t understand. I – ”

“I’m not ready yet, Fitz!” Jemma shouted. Then she gasped and ran out of the lab. 

Fitz watched as she disappeared out of sight, then turned to stare at his screen again. And then he pushed himself off his chair and followed her. He didn’t even wait for a response to his knock before he entered Jemma’s bedroom. 

At first, he didn’t see her. It was only her quiet sobs that told him she was in the opposite corner, seated on the floor and nearly hidden from view by the furniture. Fitz sighed, closed the door behind him, and then made his way over to her. Moving almost cautiously so as not to spook her, he dropped to the ground next to her. 

“I’m not ready yet, either,” he confessed. “But we can’t just leave him there because we don’t want to risk the danger. I know you don’t really want that.”

Jemma’s face crumpled as she shook her head, then leaned to rest it against Fitz’ shoulder. He swallowed and stared forward.

“In a way,” he observed, “it will be a good thing. All of this will be over and we can stop…”

“You want it to be over?” Jemma asked, her voice sounding dismayed. “You want to stop?”

Fitz furrowed his brow. After so long avoiding any sort of confession or discussion, he just was too tired to do anything but tell the truth.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I? It’s been…hard, working on this every single day, just knowing that as soon as we solved it, I’d lose you again.”

Jemma sat up suddenly and turned to stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“When he’s back and you can be together again.”

Jemma shook her head. “You won’t lose me.”

Fitz forced a smile, closing his eyes to hide the pain as he nodded. “No, I know. We’ll always be friends, best friends, I promise, but – ”

“I don’t want to be with him; I want to be with you.”

His eyes sprung open and he stared at her in shock. “What?” he breathed out. 

She climbed to her knees and leaned forward to place both hands on his cheeks. She laughed through her tears, and her smile was as wide as he’d ever seen it.

“Of course you don’t believe me, why would you?” she murmured. “I’m sorry, Fitz, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…I’ve failed you so many times.”

He was still confused, but he couldn’t let her believe that. He was denying her statement and shaking his head before he even knew he was responding. But she kept talking over him.

“I’ve been scared and – and weak. I’ve given up and ran away so many times, and I haven’t told you everything you should have heard me say. I don’t have your courage or your faith, Fitz. I’m so, so – I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for losing hope. I _wish_ I could take it back, but I can’t, Fitz. All I can tell you is that now, _now_ , I know I can be as strong as I need to be.”

Fitz felt his breath getting heavy and his heart rate getting fast. He was starting to understand what she was saying, but he couldn’t quite accept it. 

“It’s OK,” she continued. “If it’s my turn to show you, to prove to you – if it’s your turn to hesitate and doubt, then I can be brave and determined as long as it takes. You fought so long and hard, let me fight now. I’ll never stop fighting for you, not until you believe I love you, I want you, and I choose _you_.”

Fitz panted, feeling weak and paralyzed, like his spine had turned to jelly, and then he moved, scooping her into an embrace and pulling her close. Their lips met urgently in an uncoordinated kiss, and he nearly sobbed into her mouth. 

There was no holding back then, and for a moment, Fitz almost succumbed to the temptation to take her right there on the floor. Maybe another time. Instead he stood, pulled her to her feet as well, and then guided her to her bed. They barely separated as they moved, their mouths meeting hungrily again and again. Fitz slid his hands over her body, trying to feel her all at once. But she pushed at his chest then, enough to make him stumble and land on the mattress with a thump and a laugh. 

He stopped laughing as she pushed her trousers and knickers off in one smooth movement, and it certainly wasn’t funny when she knelt one knee on the bed and then the other, shuffle-crawling forward to make contact with him. 

Fitz groaned, falling back onto the mattress in despair. “I don’t have a – ”

Jemma bent forward, cutting him off with a sweet, lingering kiss. “I do,” she informed him. 

“Have I ever told you you’re brilliant?” he asked, grinning.

Jemma smiled back, winking at him as she stretched out for her nightstand drawer. 

There was little time for teasing after that, not with how quickly she grabbed the condom and rolled it on him, how quickly she climbed back to her knees and positioned herself just so and then sank onto him deliberately slow. Fitz nearly hyperventilated with pleasure, his eyelids fluttering closed before he forced them open again and sought out her gaze. They locked eyes, and Fitz suspected his own expression was as overwhelmed as hers. It was then she sped up her movement again as she raised and lowered herself over and over, moaning and gripping his shoulders tight. 

“I love you,” he told her, not even aware at first that he had said it. 

She moved one hand to his cheek, held him in place as she continued to stare deep into his eyes, continued to ride him, and then she closed the distance between them to kiss him again.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, prompting a shiver that raced beads of sweat as it traveled down his back. 

Later, when they’d finished and were simply holding each other close, Fitz still couldn’t drag his eyes away from hers. She blushed under his scrutiny, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Committing it to memory, he smiled broadly at her, then pulled her into another kiss. Jemma’s leg slipped between his, and it was almost enough to seduce him yet again. 

But Fitz knew they couldn’t stay in there forever. It needed to be done. Fitz sighed deeply.

“Let’s go rescue your astronaut,” he suggested.

Jemma’s brow furrowed, almost in an expression of pained resolution. “Fitz, I told you, he’s not _my_ – yes, he means a lot to me, and no matter what I said before, I do want to bring him home, but not because – I thought you had understood, but I guess not, so I’ll say it again. It’s you, it’s always been you, it always will – ”

As much as Fitz wanted to never stop hearing those words, he couldn’t suppress his chuckle. “I just meant the sooner we’re done with that, the sooner we can get back here. To earth and more specifically here in this bed.”

“Oh. Yes. Well. What are we waiting for then?”

**Author's Note:**

> Written in exchange for [this awesome gifset](http://eclecticmuses.tumblr.com/post/133505415996/its-like-magicbut-its-science). The prompt itself was pretty open-ended so I hope it is an acceptable trade!


End file.
